The Irishman
by SBloodClassicAlice
Summary: A girl on a slumber-roll finds out that nothing ever turns out like it should, and love is the hardest thing to overcome... if you decide to overcome it at all.
1. Chapter 1

Part 1

I looked out the window of the Subaru, watching the dark trees speed  
past us. Mom and Tina were silent up front, mom, with her eyes  
listless in thought, stared into the road and cars. She was at least  
in auto pilot, whilst Tina simply sat, looking out the window like me,  
but falling asleep. I turned back to my window, wishing to see  
something - ANYTHING! I settled for some nice houses, condominiums as  
well. I daydreamed of the possibilities. Oh! The possibilities!!!!  
Dad had promised that we were to move from the trailer, into  
wherever I wanted. Another trailer, down the road if it took my  
pleasure! I'd actually turned down the offer on the condo, for the  
trailer instead. This way, we'd be able to travel to our close  
friends' home, Canada. Perhaps even to Ireland and Iceland. Maby, if I  
were lucky enough, to Asia, Mexico, or Paris. Other places didn't hold  
as much intrest to me, and I viewed them as fillers to pass the time  
in my life.  
I watched the trees, and houses hidden in the tree groves. Thier  
lights seemed to pop on as we passed, illuminating the lifted  
cielings. They seemed like mansions, high up on hills, by themselves  
on fields, yet they fit in. I wished I had the power to truely pick  
and choose where I was to live. How good the sound would be in those  
raised ceilings!!! I stifled a gasp as my heart fluttered. My father,  
playing his guitar to my mother and I singing or playing keyboard. Now  
that would be fun, not their plastered faces full of happiness, until  
they were out of eachother's range of sight and hearing. I drowened  
out my mother's voice, pretending to be asleep as I looked out the  
window from under my eyelashes. Traffic had started to pick up,  
sending us into a slow 20mph. The music in my ear phones shook  
thoughts out of me, cracking me with it's vibrating and beating and  
booming. Whizzing things flashed before my eyes, and I picked certain  
things out of the dark. A railing, a river, trees, large houses... The  
like.  
My eyes must've eventually glazed over as I fell into my  
imagination yet again. The dryness of them shocked me as I blinked,  
falling out of my imagination. So suddenly had I seen the face beyond  
the window pane. So suddenly had the eyes locked unto mine, and the  
glass had fogged up. I jumped across the seat, or at least tried to.  
Computers and a monitor blocked my path. I screamed as the eyes melted  
through the glass, coming towards me, calling to come closer. Mother  
and Tina did nothing, just stared ahead...  
"No!" I yelped, erupting from the dream. I slouched into my seat  
as mom asked worriedly what was the matter. "Never mind, I just had a  
bad dream." I muttured, and she went off in a flurry of comments, such  
as turning my music down, and getting good sleep. I agreed and tried  
pitifully not to fall asleep again. I watched the road ahead, and  
stuck back to my music. Sooner than I expected, the face showed  
itself again, this time running along with the naturally speeding car,  
with a contemplatant look upon his face. Why did he look so firmiliar?  
Apart from the previous dream, I thought I knew him. Funny. I awaited  
his eye glowing tactic, prepared for the worst. Yet, it didn't come. I  
placed my hand on the cool window, pretending to touch his face.  
Perhaps that's when the dream took a turn for the worst. His face  
hardened, and he ran ahead of the car, and stood a few feet ahead of  
it, arms outstretched. I bolted upright in my seat as mom let out a  
scream. She tried to swirve the car away from him, but it seemed too  
late. The car bounded upward, bumping once. Mom skewers the breaks,  
and I stay still. There is a chuckling, and I open the door ready to  
run, or perhaps to fight if I couldn't get away. But, he had beaten  
me, and was crawling out from underneath the car.  
"Why don't you just go away?! You're getting to be the most  
annoying night mare ever!" I said, stepping back a little.  
"If you honestly think I'm a dream, why don't you help me outta  
here? As far as I hear, nothing bad can physically happen in your  
dreams." He said, and it seemed he was trying hard not to tip the car.  
I furrowed my brows, stepping forwards as I came put with a response.  
Windows were winding down, angry people asking why we stopped. Mom was  
coming out of the car, yelling at me whilst Tina came out crying.  
"Why are you crying, you didn't get hurt-" I muttered, going  
back to his words. "Anywho, yes, you can get hurt physically in your  
dreams. Heart attacks and such." I replied, grabbing his outstretched  
forearms as he held on to mine. I pulled him out, grunting a little as  
mom was screaming at me to stop.  
"You ignore your mother often?" He asked, laughing as he kicked  
a dent in mom's Subaru, and pushed us away from it.  
"Quite." I said, choking underneath him. Was he speaking in a  
thick Irish accent?  
"Sorry 'bout tha'." He hopped off me, handing his hand over, and  
I took it gratefully. "So thanks, and hopefully? You wan't see me  
EVA' again." He lightly knocked my chin, in a playful manner I  
suppose, and ran over the car. He hopped off it's top, and wasn't I  
expecting him to run off. Suppose if he did, he'd try to kill himself,  
looking for someone else to help him, but I wouldn't ever have seen  
him again. But you know what? Nothing ever goes like it should. When  
that blue Pepsi truck came speeding by, it still skidded on his breaks  
for half a mile, my heart absolutely stopped.  
Such an odd dream this was, so irregular from my norm. I ran,  
thankful I'd run track all these years, to the steaming truck. People  
were screaming, and someone popped from the front of the truck. This  
time, his shirt was nearly completely burned off, and his pants seemed  
like black bandages wrapped loosly around his legs.  
"Quite muscular." I commented breathlessly.  
"What?!" One of the nearby drivers screamed, prattling on about  
his condition, and what was I doing and-  
"Could you bear a few moments of silence? We're having a  
conversation here." I said, wobbily walking over to him. "I haven't  
had this much power in one of my dreams in forever!" I said, and he  
just looked at me with a sparkling white smile, and laid his hands on  
his hips. He observed me and the crowds around us with piqued  
instrest. He didn't seem a whole lot older than me.  
"How old ar' you?" He asked, wiping his nose.  
"Fourteen, and you?" I smiled, leaning my hands on my own body  
as he had his.  
"Thirty two." Boy, was I off! "So, in case so need the help of  
a fourteen year old, what's your name?" his smile was so nice, and I  
could hardly resist, and along with the ideas I had going through my  
head, the additional information I was about to give seemed quite minor.  
"Classic, and- 162 Hells Hollow, Mitch, Kopvich, 57575." I  
recited my name and address, hoping he'd ask for my number instead,  
then my dream friend would assuredly come back tomorrow night, at the  
right house as well.  
"Did I ask for numbers and words as well?" He asked, a little  
wary.  
"I'm asumptuous and dream a lot as well." I smiled, as he bit  
the side of his lip. Alright. I thought, waving. Leave then, make me  
feel like an idiot, see I'd I care  
"I'll see you around. Oh, and Classic? It's not a dream." He  
said, waving back as a couple of medics came up, checking everyone,  
and running up to me. I jumped as I noticed everyone breathing hard  
around me.  
"Are you finally going to speak to us?" They asked, the medics  
coming over with a pull-out bed.  
"Wha- What do you mean?" I remember asking suddenly drowsily,  
and woahs came from everyone, my eyes closed, a man dressed in a clad  
black suit with long brown hair falling behind him, darkness.

I still don't know why I remembered his face, or what he was  
wearing, or even him at all, why I didn't ask the indestructable  
person his name, when he knew mine, and even where I lived! But, you  
know what? Nothing ever goes as it should.


	2. Late, late, late!

Part Two

I slept peacefully that night, and woke with a dreamy smile. That was by far the BEST dream I'd ever had.

My body was stiff, but I shook it off, getting out from under my thick bedcovers. I looked at the clock, my heart in my throat. 7:46. It was morning, I was sure from the happily churping birds outside, and the light seeping in through the window. The house was quiet, and I was late for school.

I went into the restroom, watching my hands work with my hair, trying to straightening it. I decided to abolish that idea, and slipped my head under the faucet in the bathtub. Turning on the water, I didn't even wait for the cold water to stop, and the heat to come. I just made sure that my head was wet. Grabbing a towel, I turned off the water, and patted down my hair, parting it while it was still damp, and brushing it down.

I scurried from the bathroom to my room, sifting through my closet. I had to get moving. There were only so many late passes one was allowed from BJHS, Beaver Junior High School.

I threw on one of my shirts, not really bothering to see what it said, just seeing that it was long sleeved and white. I threw on a cami and a bra, ripping off my bedclothes, and put on my shirt. I was about to leave the house, when I realized I was still in pajama bottoms and no backpack.

I was glad I did my homework over the weekend, and wondered why no one had woken me for school. With a sinking feeling, as I hopped on my bike and rode through the grass, I realized dad probably did wake me, and I was just so tired that I didn't remember it, and fell right back to sleep.

I kicked the bike into sixth gear, and got moving at a fast pace. It was a relatively flat landscape all the way to the school, so I'd be ok. Now, I tried to remember any sort of short cuts I could take. But, the only ones I could possibly take were the ones the bus already had, and I only had about ten minutes to get to school. Then again, I didn't have to pick up kids at every other house, either.

I felt through the side pocket on my backpack. Where was my phone- I had to see what time it was. I doubted if I even had five minutes, now that I thought about it. We had to be at school, in the doors, before 7:55 am. I pulled out my phone. It was-

I felt the rock, the inflation of ground beneath me. I was going up too high, too quick. I held onto my phone, slamming my closed fist onto the handle bar, throwing the balance off.

I screamed, a little wail, and next felt myself rolling away from my bike. I moved my arms away from their defensive position against my face. There, my white and blue slider phone was kept.

"Damn you." I hissed at he piece of plastic. I shriveled as I got up, and checked the time. To make matters worse, I was officially three blocks away from the school, and two minutes late. How great was this day going to be…

There was rain above me, and a chill went through my rigid body. The first drops of rain were coming down, and I could see that the black clouds meant business.

I got up, trying not to limp. I was so angry, so ready to pitch my phone into the nearby tree, and watch it shatter. I was so ready to just, bend the sheer metal of my bike, to watch it crumple like I had.

But, I didn't. I just ground my teeth, and shook off the pain, lowering the bike's gear, and started off towards the school.

"Miss Classic. So glad you could join us." Mr. Bejuzsik snorted, behind his glasses, those small, playful blue eyes countered my hardened look. It was seventh period. Only two more to go. I'd dealt only with the security guard on my way in, then I'd missed Homeroom, and was reporting to first period, when the bell rang, and I looked at my cellphone. No, it was the second bell for first period, but a teacher saw me with my cell out, and not only took it, but wrote me up.

I tried to explain to her, but she wouldn't listen, so I just went to science.

Later, I got a slip and ooh's from the whole classroom as I left right before lunch to situate my tardiness. Apparently, this was my first absent, but still, keep it up, and I'd have a problem on my hands. Only two months into school too, said the red haired principal. Then she wished me a good lunch, and her white face smiled as she waved me off.

Then, after lunch, I was called in for having my cell phone out. So I got it back, and was off with my first warning for the year, but not before the second bell rang, and I was late for Algebra one.

"So am I." I said quietly, sneaking a look at my friend, Angie, and my crush, Austin. I snuck her a smile, and looked at Cody. Looking away when he looked up from his work to see who it was.

"So, now that we have our whole family- what do we have, class?" Mr. Bejuzsik asked.

"A fraction? A whole fraction?" One of the blondes in the class asked with a sinisterly cute smile.

"No!" mr. Bejuzsik said, frustrated. I lifted an eyebrow. So apparently, no one in the class knew where he was going with this. I saw no relation to the graphs on the board behind him, with freshly made chalk lines, and a full family had to do with anything, but I was soon proved wrong- I think. "A slope!" He said, seemingly gleeful at our confused and angry faces. WTF.

So the rest of class went on like that, and I enjoyed it. It was whimsical, and made absolutely NO sense. Then, it was on to the last two periods of the day, which although they're about two hours long for the both of them together, it went too quick to see anything.

I struck the door first, grinding down the handle to be the first one out. Then, I felt the other bodies trying to push me through the door. God, it was like this every damn day!

I got through, breathing again as I went through the double doors to the walkway beneath the catwalk. I started to go down the small paved incline towards the buses when something caught my eyes. There was someone leaning up against the school, dark clothes, too tall to be any of the odd Goths that I knew. I turned my head, stopping. Some kids pummeled into me, but not before I saw him.

The guy from me dream. His long, dark black- or was it brown? His long dark hair spinnewing down his back in a ponytail, and his long, lanky but strong body completely at ease.

I tripped on my own feet as I registered myself falling, and tried to outcome the blow by walking towards my dreamer guy.

I fell, hard and steady onto the ground. I looked up as the six kids who knocked me down looked at me like I was a baby that they almost squished with their big feet.

"Sorry?" I said, unsure, as I got up, and looked back at the school. No one was there. I heard their chortles, and OMG's as they walked away, completely at ease now. I turned back around, and Austin's shocked and worried face caught mine. I smiled, blushing. He looked away, almost ashamed for staring.

I wanted to go up to him and say something, but my legs were already dragging me away, feeling my stomach ball up, and my face get hot.

I felt the warm liquid right before I smelled it. Everyone was getting on the bus, and it was starting up. I bent my elbow, hissing at the pain.

Sydney and Cassie looked at me, then Lindsay came over my shoulder, trying to give me something. There was a little spongework of blood across the interior of the bus from where it had seeped through my thin long sleeved shirt.

I took whatever Lindsay had given me, and we were on our way to the Intermediate.

"Can I tell the bus driver?" Cassie asked me, and I nodded, not quite as sick to my stomach as I would've been if it were anyone else's. The blood wasn't coming fast, but slow and thick.

"Cathy!" Cassie called to the bus driver, and I looked up. My face hot. I could've just gone up, now it was going to be all over the school in a few short text messages. "Classic's bleeding! Really bad! It got all over the seat!"She said in her New Jersey accent.

So after that, Cathy pulled off the the side of the road, and cleaned out the 'scratch' with antiseptic, and capped it off with a band-aid.

"Do you need to go to the nurse or the hospital?" She asked, worried. I shook my head.

"Cathy- it's a flesh wound. I'll get over it. It's not like I have a broken arm that needs put back in place or anything." I said, smiling. She waved me off, looking worried still, and we ended up being the last ones to the Intermediate.

I got home about an hour later, and no one but my friend, Halie said anything about my 'flesh wound'.

Then, it was my grandmother who came over for dinner, and my dad, to worry about.

"how did that happen?!" My grandmother asked, furious. "If it's a boy-"

I shook my head, laughing.

"I fell down, Nana. No biggie." I said, trying to appear like a normal, clumsy teenager. If I told her about the guy from my dream- or even that I _was_ afraid about it, I'd hear nothing but my little scratch all night.

Dad didn't say a word, and I was glad he wasn't that open to talk feelings with my grandmother in the same room.

Dinner ended at soon as it had started, and for once, I hopped up to my room without doing the dishes. I could do those tomorrow. It was still light out, but at 7:00pm, I decided it was time to get some shut eye, and passed out on my bed.

The next morning was nice, and mom called me to see how I was doing, and I said fine. She said she took me straight home after the driving trip with Rhonda, and I was already passed out, and she couldn't get in touch with me all of yesterday because my phone was off. I blushed, and apologized, soon after ending the phone conversation with I've got a lot of work to do.

My bus came at 7:01am, just like it always does, and I was ready for it today. I got hounded by the cute guys why I wasn't on the bus yesterday, and I simply said because I felt like sleeping in. They all laughed, and a few gave me these mischevious eyes, before turning back to their seats, and I turned on my IPod.

It was one of the rules on the bus for Classic to have her own seat. That was probably even in ink somewhere, but today, I didn't get my own seat, which was a very uncommon drawback to my days. But, not so much of a drawback today, I realized as the boy beside me drew back his black hood.

I hadn't seen him in school. In fact- I hadn't seen him, EVER!

He was so handsome, I wondered how he could've possibly missed my eye. Those dark brown locks, short, but not a bowl cut, and those light, silvery eyelashes. Then, those crystal blue eyes that looked into my smokey blue ones.

"Hi." I murmered, loosing my stature in one final gaze.

"Hi." He said back with an impish grin. He seemed kinda fresh- like he was a fish out of water. He's new on my bus, I agreed.

"Are you new here?" I asked, suscpisious.

"Yeah." He said, shocked, then grinning again. "I'm from Slippery Rock." I smiled. So were a lot of people, half as cute as you. I wanted to say.

"What's your name?" Didn't provide the least amount of excitement as my other comment would've but it was better to start off with knowing someone else with.

"Cory." He said, raising an eyebrow.

"Classic." I said, and he laughed. What was so funny?

"How's my name classic?" he asked. I realized he thought I was being sarcastic.

"No, my name is Classic. Classic Wagner." I said, looking away with a blush.

"Oh- Sorry." He said, subdued at once. I was quiet, and looked away too. This was so odd, he probably thought I was the biggest-

Outside me window was the strangest things I'd ever seen. There was a grown man, talking to another grown man. Except- it looked like one was bleeding, begging.

I stifled an excited gasp as the bus stopped not even ten feet from the couple.


	3. The Vision

"What's up?" Cory asked me, and I turned back to him, about to refer the new kid to the fight on the road. But when I turned back, there was an old lady getting into her car, outside of her old house. No blood stains on the grass, nothing to prove that those two guys were out there. I paniced.

"The first signs of insanity." I sighed, closing my eyes, only to open them again with a sleepy smile to Cory, and get out my cell phone.

"Ah." Cory said, fidgety now. I didn't care. I texted my mom.

_Why I no remember when you brought me back home?_

And waited her reply.

I supposed this time was way too early for her, because I waited up until we were at the school before turning my phone off- still no reply.

Cory didn't talk to me for the rest of the day- and my mind was in a blur. I kept telling myself nothing that I was seeing was true- I was making it all up because of my dream- because I wanted those things that happened in those books to be real, and come through on my real life. To be ME.

But nothing happened, my friends from Power Tech didn't disturb me as I mourned my sanity, and not a soul said a word when I was on the buses home.

Dad wasn't home yet- he was working late today.

I looked around the boxes piled high throughout my house, and smiled a little.

I was worked up about my moving, about what the new house would look like. I was excited for the move- I needed some more change in my life- but, why then, was I making stuff up to reconcil myself?

Why was I telling myself I'm seeing the guys in my dreams- my hotte Irishman, and that civilized patron who was only half as good looking as my Irishman.

Because.

Nothing ever turns out like it should.


	4. Death Rolls On Moonlight

Part Three

We had our last day in the trailer. Our stuff was almost completely moved, and nothing was left. When we'd lived there, I kept the place clean as I could- but this was, nice.

There was no furniture, like the two white couches, or the large brown entertainment center in the room. There were a few stains that would come up tomorrow, but otherwise, no screws in the walls, nothing in the living room. Just a big- room. To live in. So that was nice. The cabinet in the kitchen broke as we tried to pull the empty thing out, so we just threw that out. The table was going into the other place because we had room, as were the chairs, and deepfreezer, and all of the little white cabinets that Nana bought but said were ours…. Confusing, really.

Still, it was nice. It was open and non-obscured. It was just how I wanted it. I could live here, I told myself. I could just put all of my blankets in the closet, keep the refrigerator full, and have some pots, pans, cleaning stuff, and live simply.

I didn't need a bed, I thought, laying down on the carpeted floor, and watching the sun shine through the window.

I didn't need furniture- a television- all I needed was blankets, food, maybe books- or I'll just rent those- and Music.

The songs played out softly through my mind, the sweet, sweet voices of different singers, their rhaspy call turned angelic and mellow.

Then, pianos. And violins. The singer's voices desinegrated from my mind, creating a different song- of strings, and a piano. Maybe a sound maker, and a few triangles, but all- real.

All recorded and playing out loud and clear- unaffected by my memory. All completely- unforgettably, real.

Then, the strings hit all of the sharps, going down and a guitar softly loomed in. It was chaos, with a sweet underbelly-

But how could anything that sounded so thick and dreamy- be so frightening and bad? It wasn't fast, just reppettative, but different every time. The melody from the nice piano song was gone- replaced by this- this Beast, this thing that made you feel hollow, and cold, but hypnotised- and full. All at the same time.

It was magic- the song, so- Real. All the other songs I'd tried to remember were hollow- left of the trueness, or the feeling I'd felt from listening to them originally, but now- now it was there. There would be no other time for me to hear this, no matter how wonderful, or terrible it was- it was leaving. Fading into something else. Something that I disliked far more than the beast. At least the beast had feeling- even if it was frightening, this quietness with words was disturbing. Up one word, down the scale with the other. Repeat. Up one word, down the scale with the other. Up And soon, down the scale with I will become the hunted. Up, And soon, Down, I will become the hunted. And soon, I will become the hunted. I will become the hunted. And soon, I will become the hunted. And soon, I will become the hunted. And soon, I will become the hunted, and soon, I will become the hunted, and soon, I will become the hunted, and soon, I will become the hunted.

I awoke- the sun was down, the room was getting cold. We were supposed to stay in the trailer for the night, but the suddenness of the dream shook me- badly. All I wanted was to get out of there.

Every shape shifting shadow was like the grudge films- scary, dark, and painful. The hollowness of the house felt- empty, abandoned. It had been like this before- multiple times, but it was always sort of- nice. Now, it was deadly. I krept out of the blankets and pillows I had pillaged around me. I quietly sneaked to my dad's room, down the hall from the living room. Peeking through his open door, I saw he was fast asleep- as he should be.

I krept backwards, waiting to walk into someone and scream- like in every book and movie- and song and TV show- just to get frightened. But, nothing happened, the suspense was enough, as I reached the door and pulled it open.

It was quiet- quieter than I'd expected, but the screen door was quite opposite- screaching open like an alarm, I waited for my dad to move in his room.

I heard the bed squeak, and he was back asleep.

I closed the doors behind me, happy to find all of the lights were out, no one had their's on, so the slight moonlight from the sliver of a moon was all I had to guide me to Mallori's trailer, down the road. No one was out- no 15-year-old-junkies, no crazy old people, no scary black cats, no insects. Just quiet. I patted around me- no, I'd forgotten to bring my phone along with me tonight.

Ah well, I just hoped my friend was still awake- and that I tapped on the right window.

Music played on and on as I quietly made my way across the wet ground. It had rained all of yesterday- and whenever else, I hadn't really paid attention all week. It kept playing, thrumming the strings across my mind.

'This song, it makes me kinda sad- at the end- when it said- touching her skin...' By a deep, meledous voice following with 'my words-! They pour! Like children to the playground- children to the playground-! you make me smile!!!!"

I smiled, unable not to, as I approached the house, slinking into the further shadows of each trailer- trying to go unnoticed-

"Who's there?" Mallori whispered from her window, sudden.

"Damnit!" I squeaked, hiding behind a tree. Why was she looking out her window- calling that out just as I approached? Did she have her glasses on? Was she expecting someone?

"Classic?" Mallori asked, quieter. I came out from my shadowed area, hopping up on one of the multiple logs laying around to greet her at her window.

"Invite me in-!" I commanded my vampire freak of a friend.

"Oh, ha ha. Very funny. 'Come In'." She said, moving away. I hopped through the window- with room to spare. The agility came from my use of Parkour, free running.

"So what're you doing out this late?" She asked me, and I shrugged, feeling energized. I looked her over. In her bedclothes, Mallori looked tired- drugged almost.

"How late is it?" I asked, and she pointed to her clock. The digital reading said 2:46. "What, we just got off school a few minutes ago?" I joked, meaning it was still daytime.

"Classic-" Mallori started to complain, which was no like her- and then she laughed. We sat for a second, her leaning up against the bed, and me crouching, ready to go. It was always the other way around during the night, with Mallori and I, it seemed.

"SO, what do you want to do?" I asked, and she shook her head.

"It's three AM, if my mom finds me missing in the morning, I'm blaming you." She said, and I laughed, thinking about whether or not she saw the irony in her words.

"So let's get back by four, and go do something. There's no cars on the road, so we'll be safe like that for a little while. It's october anyways- The Scary Month." I challenged, and she laughed.

"Yeah, I guess."

We hid in the grass. Dakota had taken too long to push the damn toilet over. If he would've just thrown over the porta-potty like he was supposed to, we wouldn't have ever gotten into this trouble. This was stupid.

We watched the monster roll over the gravel of the construction sight, it's claws menacing, and it's orange lights penatrating. The guy in the vehicle either didn't care if we were there- and he was out past dark for some other reason- or he couldn't see us, like we wanted.

"Go!" Dakota hissed when the vehicle passed the porta-potty, and Mallori and I ran, ran so hard we almost forgot about Dakota.

"Where do we go?!" We asked him, feeling exposed in the lights.

"TO THE DUMPSTER!!!" He yelled, lagging behind. Mallori and I both ran back to him, our small figures only able to wrap ourselves around most of his arms, and dragged him into a run. The boy wasn't the weight of a car or anything- he was just a little bit- overweight?

I didn't care, and neither did Mallori, especially when it became apparent that no one was following us. We slid across the field to the dumpster, hidden by trees.

Dakota tried the door-

"Locked." He moaned. Then, he got spirited again. "Can you go open it on the other side? Jeff and I did that once." He said, looking to me hopefully.

"Yeah-" I said, looking at the six in a half foot wall. "Jeff did." My eyes scrunched. I looked at the tree. It was small, but it would put me right at the edge- if I jumped.

I climbed the tree easily, jumping from it to the wall without thinking, and crawled over the side, rolling as I came down.

The door opened easily, and Dakota closed it behind us.

"How long are we going to wait?" Mallori asked, right off the bat. Dakota hushed her, and I tried not to talk too much. I hadn't had this much fun this late for- three years?

And we waited like that- for two whole hours. Waiting for the truck that had come to leave, and take it's clawed friend with it. But it didn't, and we waited.

The cold was seeping through my jacket- the excitement had made me feel the need to use the restroom. But, I wasn't leaving this dumpter-storage place, and wasn't going to do anything in front of Dakota- I'd gone out with him for a summer, two years ago.

four years ago, I'd been new to this town- a whole new place, with only family members to our reasoning to coming back. I'd been happy though- and we were FINALLY moving out of our trailer- I took a sharp intake of breath- Mallori had no idea that I was moving out tommorrow, but she must've seen the trucks pull past with our things.

I looked at her, and she smiled. No, she didn't know. Dakota, living two trailers up, might've known for a while. A little while at least.

I sighed, shaking me head. What a mess. What a mess.

Then, we heard the roaring crash of an engine igniting, and our hearts soared. Or, at least mine did. Dakota looked through the peeping tom's lines in the door, and Mallori and I planned how we would leave- I'd jump onto the side of the wall, and I'd pull her up. Then, Dakota could climb on top of the dumpster itsself, and we'd-

We heard the screech of the door open, and Dakota smiled back at us, ushering us out.

We saw the truck rolling along the paved road leading to the sight, and we shivered. We were home free at last. Making our way out, Mallori's jacket got caught on the door. She yelped, and once I saw what had happened, I started to laugh. God, we were so jippity!

Dakota though, wasn't laughing. I looked around. Where'd he go?

Mallori tugged at her jacket, and I looked around wildly for Dakota. It felt like my armour had been ripped off, my strong, sturdy knightess feeling gone completely, I started to think irrationally. But, all I could think about was my Irish dream date.

My eyes fluttered, and I looked back to reality to watch as my body pulled Mallori off her feet, running as fast as we could- leaving half of her shirt behind. We ran towards the road. I watched as the lights of the truck- the reason why my body had started to run- started to finally approach and zone in on it's target.

Mallori screamed, or maybe I did- but before we knew it, the truck was right beside us. But, we saw as it streaked past us, the driver wasn't even mildly looking at us- but at the huge wreck scene before us.

I realized that it wasn't Mallori or I who had screamed- it was another person entirely. She had long, straight locks that rolled past her short shoulders, and a speed bump on top of her head. Along with some fake designer clothes, she was almost completely opposite of my gothic friend, Mallori.

Two cars were totalled, looking like they'd smashed into another. But, looking at them, and imagining their paths by the black tire marks, I saw that wasn't so. One car had seen something in the middle of the road that made it do a complete donut over the road, and crash into another oncoming car. That car, had smashed into something. Something that was now in between the two that was making the girl scream.

There was a rusty smell overpowering the fumes of the cars, and a dark puddle rolling down the side of the road to Mallori and. We were clutching onto eachother, and shaking so violently that we couldn't move. Or, at least that was for me. I realized Mallori must be afraid of the blood- and the popo. He ran from the crash sight to his truck, and a ball-capped assistant of his came from the passenger's seat, shooing everyone away from the scene.

I stepped forwards.

That girl wearing the designer t-shirt, speedbump hairstyled hair, and sporty pants was no environmentalist, so I knew right off the bat it wasn't a deer.

How much blood would a deer give off? I suddenly wondered. My mind was pushing this thought on me, urging me to go home, take Mallori under my wing, and hope the Popo's didn't notice we were there, or where we were going.

But I kept moving, just as anyone would, or maybe, as the crowd faded, anyone wouldn't.

I stared, my knees keying into place. Rage filled my stomach. I wanted to punch something- to kill whoever hit him first. Why- why the hell this innocent kiddo, over... let's say another, less destructible car? Because that's the way things happen, and you know what?

Nothing ever turns out like it should.


	5. The Printer

Part Four

The funeral was- someday cold and windy. We went to a church, but I don't think Dakota's mom or stepdad put forth a whole lot of effort.

I'd brought in a boquet when most people simply brought in a single flower, saying there were no more at the store.

His mom really- she was sad. But the stepdad brought in a single flower, so I heard against her wishes- wrinkled, and fake- looking. And guess what, at the end of the ceremony, he took them back. That really pissed me off.

He took back the flowers he had for his own kid.

So that was two funerals in the past year- a vulgar place this seemed to be. First, a family member, now a good friend.

I cried, not understanding why just as much as with my family member, even though this was less self-inflicted.

I heard he'd walked onto the road- but that was only one driver, the donut driver, after he was told that for killing a minor, there would be severe charges or something. So basically they blackmailed him into saying the kid did that of his own will, and everyone else was a victim. I think he had a self-employed lawyer who didn't care a whole lot about kids.

IDK anymore. IDK.

We moved out of the trailer, and I took one last run through the little forest nearby. It was calm, peaceful, and even more so nice now that I'd turned my phone off. I crawled up the side of a hunting cabin, pluging in my headphones as soon as I had gotten to the top. There was a perfect outline of the entire area- outlined in aging trees, and thin spiderwebs.

It was beautiful.

The sun was out, and the sky was blue- the sun wasn't setting, it was a few hours from that point- yet it was still pretty. I'd gotten another day off school, today was my last day off, and I'd spent the day simply- being.

That's probably what I would've done anyways, but it still felt new and different. It felt nice, like everything else.

I guess you could say I'd gotten over the funeral in the week that'd come after it, but then you would partially be lying. I'd never gotten over my cousin, either, though.

It was still a touchy subject, I'd even jumped in class when my english teacher had rattled off the five w's:

Who,

What,

When,

Where,

and

_**Why**_?

I stopped my thoughts in their tracks. Listening to Billy Holliday on this fine eavening was enough emotion for me at this point- I didn't need anything else to bug me.

So that's what I did. I blocked out everything but the blue skies, and the green trees, and translucent spiderwebs.

I even blocked out the eavening sounds of wildlife. Grazing deer passed, absentmindedly acknowledging me. I acknowledged them too, trying to at least be nice to them- if not anyone else. And the squirrels, and the nearby bee, whom I tried too hard to disregard. And the whistling of the trees when the animals became reclusive.

I thought, and thought, and closed my eyes to think a little more.

Ever since we'd moved into the trailer court, I'd been doing nothing but speeding through life.

I'd wanted to get my permit- and my license more than ANYTHING in the world, and I was also ready just to move. To have something change. Drama has been a big part of my life- I could probably make an entire 1,000 page novel on how eventful it's been in my past. From Bee Stings, to my first ER trip, and even just normal things for me- it would be lying if I said that my life was uneventful.

I opened my eyes, energetic. That's what I would do. I'd write. Become a famous author, and write. I'd write the world of my woes- so that I didn't have to tell anyone, no one had to listen to me, and I wouldn't be holding everything up in my chest like some sort of bomb, ready to explode after two days.

The energy swept out of me as soon as I was up though, and I took the now wild songs out of my ears. Billy Holliday had gotten randomed for some head banging song off of a Soundtrack.

I sat still for a few seconds, but my peaceful- I looked at the clock on my IPod- HOUR.

An HOUR?!?! Oh, dad was going to flip. And no calls home either. That ten minute trip had drastically turned to times six.

Ohhhhh, this was gonna be bad.....

I stood, quickly, almost too quickly, and my head swarmed with my bloodloss, and the sudden freak-out session.

The hunting deck underneath me- (only supported by five long planks beat far into the ground)- shivered, or maybe I wavered first, moving it. But either way, it was moving, and so was I- right off the side of the hut. Backwards.

My breath caught as I felt the edge of the boards underneath my feet, then open air. My heart soared, and I think my face turned purple with the loss of air. I was screaming- with no sound. My head was screaming, and I was ready to puke I was so worked up.

I waited, waited for the crash, thinking; Classic doesn't die like this. She dies after going insane and a suicidal mission. Not by falling off the side of a fifteen foot high building onto the side of a steep hill. That just isn't fair.

But you know what? This was one time, things turned out like they should've- for the most part. There was one variable I hadn't counted on though.

Arms caught me, and I got back my breath enough to gasp. The arms were so cold on impact- and their strength was so great, they felt like rocks along my back and legs. The person didn't fall underneath my weight and the weight of gravity. He stood, steady and strong.

I looked up to his face, expecting to see Austin.

But- Austin, no matter how gorgeous he was in my eyes- didn't have these big arms, a six pack, and a tall figure. I was at least three feet off the ground. At least, very, very least. But, that came later. At first, all that made sense was, it's a dream.

This was all a dream.

Here was my Irish guy- his handsome dark eyes, and thick jawbone cleanly shaven, and his hair- semi-long, but maybe half as long as Austin's.

There was some feeling of guilt, but I had to. I stretched away from him, looking at his torso, and back to his eyes. They were looking at me curiously.

"I need a favor to ask, young lady." He said, putting me down. My knees buckled, and I felt like the biggest dope, looking up at him with a little drooly smile. I put my head down when his eyebrow raised, and closed my mouth. It was the eyes- those dark, swelling eyes.

A favor. That rich context, lathered in a foreign and true accent was too much, my heart filled with blood, as did my cheeks, and the words were imprinted in my mind from there on out.

Forever and always, I'd remember how he'd crouched down and asked if I was alright.

"Yeah." I said, trying to stand up. My knees buckled, and his strong arms were around me.

_He's what- like, my dad's age?_ I repremanded myself, and I couldn't help but looking up into his eyes. A smile, and I was standing again. His eyes glowed with some sort of dazedness. I smiled back.

"So can you help me?" He asked, serious. The glow was gone. I sparked into action.

"Yeah! No, wait- what am I helping you with?" I said in vague distress. He laughed, backing away. I think I almost went forwards, to match his footsteps.

"Something easy. It's about someone. Are you good with getting info?" He asked, and I laughed.

"Yeah! And if not, I've got my ways." I chuckled, starting to turn away. My face flushed hard, and I turned my head completely the other way, so he couldn't see when I silently screamed, WTF?!

I turned back to him, beet red.

"Ways- right." His tongue easily flicked over the r in a beating song. "I need you to find another student at your school, can you do that for me?" And I nodded, biting my tongue. He had such a nice, easy flow to his words- why couldn't I be like that?

"Markus Gerald. Do you- need a ride home?" He asked, and I shook my head, biting my tongue until it bled. "Alrighty, I'll see you tomorrow then."

I nodded, waving as he left. I cursed when he was out of earshot, and started on my way. He took a left, once in the clearing. I kept going straight. Straight home.

I walked up the hill slowly enough, and went into my pockets to turn my phone back on- but just as I was about to turn around and get it, Dad's truck came into view. He stepped on the breaks, and I hurried over to him.

"WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN? I called you, but you didn't answer. I couldn't find you anywhere!!!" He said, his voice rising. I went over to the passenger's side, and got in.

"I'm so sorry, Dad. I don't know where my phone went. I- fell asleep. I'm so sorry." I said quickly, but truthfully. He was still freaked, but we drove past the trailer court with the last few boxes in the back of the truck, and on our way to the new place.

We were renting, and dad and I were both fine with that. We just wanted somewhere for the time being before we decided whether we were moving into an actual house, or building our own. I voted for building our own- fantasy style. He had leaned toward this idea, hoping it'd be better for the environment if he could, but now that we couldn't find any land with a view, he was beggining to get more practical.

I traded boxes from his room to my own- I'd gotten back from another quick but easy and painless day at school. Dad was still at work. So, I was alone. It felt odd, but nice, to know that I was on my own. I was just- alone. Nana wasn't two or three doors down, and neither was the annoying yapping dog that never let me get any rest. It was quiet, serene, and I soaked up the time alone like life itsself.

I remembered my deal with Him vaguely, no, not my dad- my mystery man. His eyes stuck in my head like a bolted engraving right into the flesh. I felt the flesh on the outside of my head grow red as I thought about him. I picked up one of the last boxes, and took it into my room. It had been a single day, and I hadn't heard anything from Him. I looked at the digital clock above the stove when I was going back to my dad's room- his was closest to the door, and our apartment was on ground level, and windows on every side of the living room and kitchen. That was nice, just as long as we didn't keep the fourteen hundred dollar laptop sitting on the couch when I went to school. We had yet to get blinds, and the lock on the door was- well, it could've been better.

The clock read 6:15.

I had almost exactly twenty four hours done and over with for waiting on Him in about two hours. Eight o-clock. I sighed, this was going to be long.

I went back to my dad's room, and took up my last box. While lifting this, I saw a pamphlet below: 'Hillside Lands'. A pamphlet for land he'd found.

I crouched, box in hand, and as gracefully as I could, I picked up the pamphlet and tried not to drop the box as I took it back to my room.

I didn't bother unpacking the my cardboarded things, but looked at my pamphlet. 'Thirteen Acres! Low Cost! Sign Up Now!!!' It said. I took a step back, sign up now? Sign up for what? I looked through the pamphlet, and saw nothing overly spectacular. More info on what type of grass they grew, what type of houses you were allowed to build, a Phone Number, and a Website. Nothing was overly exceptional about that, not even the fact that the number was circled. Dad did that a lot, when it was important stuff, like medical information.

I smiled. Before, I made up my dream guy just so that I'd get over living in the court. Now, I thought my dad was going to move me into a housing developement for- medical stuff? I didn't know what was going through my mind, but my gut said to drop it, and do something else. I always listen to my gut.

I didn't really want to start unpacking stuff. I'd do that tommorrow, and all of my homework was done. No laundry to do when it's all packed away. Tomorrow's outfit was planned, and I had no projects in school to do. I sat, biting my lip. Then, I got up, walked over to the only unpacked computer, hooked it up in ten minutes, and got the internet kicking. I was glad dad had already set that up, all I had to do was plug in a wire.

The printer was easier than the computer, and in a few minutes, I found some printer paper. I got onto a new document, and started typing everything I now knew about Markus Gerald. He was fifteen, and the new kid I had seen before, on the bus. He was less sociable than when we first met, but I was happy to get him to tell his name.

He moved here two months ago, and just recently all of his birth certificates came in from- wow, New York. No wonder it took a long time to get here.

No, he didn't know Him, after I explained who He was, and no I didn't know His name. That kinda weirded him out, so I left to go talk to some girls. My social standards didn't drop with them, I was thankful for. I squeezed out the last bit of information from them, and then the period was out, and I patiently waited until I could go home.

So, he was fourteen, had green mossy eyes, tossled brown hair, and a really nice, white smile. And those lips-

I stopped. I doubted He needed to know that I had a crush on whomever he asked me to get intell on. No, I left the part about lips, smiles, and teeth out. That'd be all my memory. He had a childish face, rounded, but in no way chubby. He was- one of the most build guys I'd ever been around. he wasn't ripped like bulging with muscles or anything, but he was- in shape. He would crush the guys on the football team. I wondered if I should go out for the cheerleading squad-

I kept my daydreams at bay, hardly, as I finished up. I created a very, very vivid picture of him in my mind, and described it fluently on virtual paper. Then, I talked some about his parents, both a mom and dad lived at home, the dad was a banker, and the mom was a 'housewife', taking care of Markus and his little sister. It was a perfect family, really.

I printed out the document, adding that he didn't play any sports, and no extra-curricular activities.

He was pretty normal, nothing too spectacular, and I had absolutely no idea why He wanted anything on Markus. A dramatic story created its self in my mind; Markus was kidnapped at birth by these seemingly perfect parents, and was my Irishman's son. The mother died a tragic death after giving birth to the beautiful Markus.

Hmm, can't be that far off. I mused, tapping my foot as I waited for the printer to work. The screen blinked a green sign:

Cables Unplugged

I bent over the printer, checking those wires. Everything there seemed alright. Then, I checked the ones to the computer. Nope, those ones were fine too. I went back to the printer. The blinking green sign was gone, replaced by;

Print Recent Documents:

2 3 4 5

I clicked four and five, hoping one of them was it. What came out from my printer was NOT what I wrote.

_**You Must Wonder Why You're Helping Him.**_

_**Come outside at seven, and you'll see why.**_

My heart raced. Wasn't I just wondering why I was helping Him? And all the words in that sentence were capitalized, there's no reason to suspect anyone else would think of capitalizing Him as if it were a name... but... who would've been able to put something like that through my computer anyhow?

I looked around.

There were no broken windows, or unlocked windows, or secret passages in the house. And the door still worked with the key fine, so no one broke in that way. Dad wouldn't have put that on there. But, who else could've?

There was nothing off about the house, no muddy footprints leading to the culprit, not blood stains on anything. This was like a really, really weird dream. I didn't know what to think, as usual. I looked at the clock. It read seven o-one.

One minute past seven.

One minute past when I was supposed to go outside.

I looked out the window, and saw nothing but the street lamp. It was dark already, when just a moment ago it had been sunny, and I'd been carrying boxes into my room.

Dad was late, and what other choice did I have? Was I going to wait an hour until I though, maybe. Just maybe, I'd see my Irish-man? No. My gut said. Go outside, even though you're so scared and excited you feel sick, go outside and see what's up with people going through your things, and printing off stuff on your printer.

The printer was at work with another document as I threw on a pair of black flats, sockless, and my black jacket.

Outside wasn't cold, but it wasn't hot out either, so I took off my jacket, leaving it on the empty front porch. There was only one streetlamp, and that was a few apartments down, let's say about five. So without leaving my front porch light on, it was very, very dark outside.

There was no one outside, and I held onto my arms for comfort, not for lack of heat.

It was odd, I just stood for a second or two, feeling stupid, standing outside my door, waiting for something to happen. So, I walked down the road a little.

I bit my lip, what was I hoping for? A serial killer?

A hand grabbed my shoulder roughly, turning me around, and another clapped its self over my mouth as I opened my mouth to scream. I hummed as loudly as I could, and I heard chuckling. I stopped screaming, and started throwing punches. The hands came together, wrestling for my hands.

"Stop it! Stop it!" The owner of the hands hissed quietly over my growling. I looked at the face, and stepped back.

"Markus?" I asked in a shaky voice, getting in a ready-for-fight-stance. "What're you doing here?" I asked. Did he break into my house today? How did he get to my house before I did? What was going on?!

"Yeah, sorry about that. Someone told me that you wanted to talk to me-?" He said, asking at the same time.

"Someone -- told -- you --- to ---- meet ---me--- at my _House?!_ And you agreed..." I asked, shaken, and confused. "Would someone please tell me what's going on?" I asked, slumping to the ground.

"Sorry I came so late, I hoped to be here before dark- but I got- held up..." He said, quietly. I looked up at him.

"I- who told you to come to my house? Why would you come to my house? Why, why, why?" I groaned, closing my eyes. Nothing made sense. I jumped when he spoke next.

"Well because I told you I'd be around today, didn't I?" His thick, Irish accent awoke me, and I stood quickly, turning around.

Markus and I were standing on part of the lawn of the thirty acres the apartments had. We were the farthest from any of the houses that we could be. He was on the road, behind me, staring at Markus. I turned my head and looked at Markus. His face was stony, unreadable. I looked back to Him. His face was readable alright. I took a step foreward.

"So- this is Markus. Markus, this is-" I turned back to Markus, wondering what to call my Irishman, but when I looked back, all I could find was a blank space where had been standing. "But he was-"

"It's fine. Go up to the house. Don't you have some info on the devil?" He asked with a grin, walking beside me. A truck pulled down the road, turning into the apartments, and He stopped. "I'll meet you at your house, I've got- buisness to attend to." He said, changing his walking straif beside me to a walk leading far behind me.

I didn't argue. Guys were too confusing for me to really care tonight. I greeted my dad from the truck, and used the excuse; I was talking to a friend.

He smiled, and slung his arm over my shoulders. "Don't get too attatched, kid. I might've found us a place." He said, and I nearly jumped up and down. He wouldn't tell me where, and as soon as we entered the house, he was getting clothes and a towel from his room, and hopping into the shower.

I went downstairs, sitting on the couch, and plugged in the television. I had nothing else to do anyways. So I turned on the television, and popped in a movie. Why not?

As soon as the sound started, and I heard the water turn off, there was a light knocking on the door. I ran to answer it, almost forgetting who it would most likely be. I opened the door, and in the light, he looked better than I could've imagined him.

"Hi." I said with a smile, opening the door wide. "Would you like to come in?" I asked, and He smiled as well.

"I'd love to." And he stepped into my life.


End file.
